


Make You Feel My Love

by Hans_On



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24574816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hans_On/pseuds/Hans_On
Summary: What better way to control the chaotic Demons of Hell than to Bind them to the emotionless, incorruptible Angels? The most dangerous are bound to Seraphim, the warriors below the Archangels, powerful enough to control their Charges. The tether can go both ways though - so Dean decides to make his Angel feel it.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I'm looking for a Beta, willing to read some Dean/Cas.
> 
> Also I'm ahead of my writing schedule and my favorite Beta is ahead of her reading schedule so the second chapter of 'Stumbling Into (Damn Near) Perfect' should be up on Tuesday. The plan for this one as it's short is a chapter a day so this will actually lead you right into Tuesday! Ay.
> 
> Forward, into my PWP mind!

  
He finds the Seraph he's Bound to hot in a 'fire and brimstone' kind of way, probably 'cause of the stone-faced look he's giving right now of total 'no fucks given'. He chaffs under the Binding, angel's Grace and Holy Light in a physical collar tying around his neck and he wonders will it burn all the time... so uncomfortable. Almost worth it only 'cause he knows what's coming soon.

  
They have to consummate it. He's not ashamed - he's a demon, shame is not a concept in his experience, to say he's gagging for it. He's communed with fellow brothers and sisters who have been Bound to angels and about the only perk was the sex. Destruction-level sex.

  
True form Seraphim were entities of pure Grace, warriors made of Holy energy, wings and claws and many fanged-heads. Like he was now, the Seraph was in a vessel. Modeled after one of those meat bag creatures God had made but not right, because he looked too perfect, skin too smooth, eyes too blue, perfectly emotionless. That glorious mix of Seraph and human that appealed to his kind. Not so powerful to burn him to ashes but sturdy enough to give a good fuck and take a little punishment in return.

After all he couldn't be seen to surrender. 

  
He couldn't wait to claw up that little body.

"So you're the hubby?" he sneers it, smug and cocky and gets little more than a blink from the Seraph.

  
"What are you called?" Well, damn he wanted to name him? Like a pet? 

  
"It's - I'm..., Dean." The hand that clamps around his arm is no bigger than his own but he feels it down to his bones. "Ow, ow, fuck ow!"

  
"I am Castiel. We are leaving. Now." Dean frowned, a little perplexed because the last Binding he'd heard of had been consummated publicly. Here he was looking forward to Raphael's sour face having to watch another of his underlings mate a demon and instead he's getting dragged out of the ritual chamber by this deceptively weak looking vessel.

  
"I know you aren't capable of possessiveness, so did I manage to get the one prude angel?" He voices as he's pulled around behind this Castiel like a plaything, down one corridor then another. It gets old real fast so Dean digs in his heels and barely phases the Seraph beyond a sharp look over his shoulder. Then he's literally, legs out from under him, being dragged. "Oh for - fuck! Okay fuck! Goddamn -"

  
"Hold your tongue!" Oh. He is dropped unceremoniously in the middle of the corridor and treated to a look to level cities while dark blue eyes lit with righteousness promise him damnation if he so much as squeaks. He feels Castiel like atmosphere, heavy on him with the pressure of his Grace, the one pair of wings on this vessel spread wide and high.

Yeah, hot.

  
"...I just wanted to walk on my own without feeling like a sack." He looks down and away, brings his own wings down submissively and goes quiet. The ploy seems to work because when the hand comes back to his arm, he isn't pulled again until he gains his feet. He manages to stay quiet only minutes, frustrated with walking in silence. "Where are we going?"

  
"A private room was delegated to us." Okay so yes, a prude. He barely resists rolling his eyes but makes a sound of non-committal boredom. "It is not much further."

  
"I hope it's not stage fright... you have nothing to be afraid of." Dean is notoriously easy with his friends. Once the angel lives up to the hype of their knotting, he might even give in without making a battle of it. When the angel earns it of course. "I'm Bound to you so I'm as sure a fuck as you can get."

  
"...are you incapable of being silent?" Dark eyebrows furrow over a darker frown as the Seraph stares at him and Dean bites his lip hard against a retort about the different ways he can be gagged. He lasts ten seconds.

  
"I like to be mentally stimulated." Whoops. A growl even lower than the Seraph's normal tone rings out before a door is being opened, he's basically tossed in and then he's being stalked by tall, stone-faced and righteous.

  
He's not even winded from the wall he crashed into, just slightly annoyed, blood pumping now as he stands, wings neutral. Dean smirks, all fangs and irreverence. "This is going to be fun."

  
"I was told you are one of Lucifer's strongest. I find it hard to believe you to be the upper echelon on his hierarchy." He does like the Seraph's eyes, they are unerring, piercingly direct as he stares Dean down, expressionless.

  
"It's all charm and personality up here. The riff-raff don't have fun like us!" He flexes his claws but keeps his stance loose, un-threatening. "What rank are you in the Seraphs then?"

  
He gets a head tilt, eerie. The blue eyes squint before the Seraph answers. "I am sixteenth among my brethren. Twenty-third in the Heavenly host."

  
Dean's nose wrinkled. He wasn't even tied to someone in the top twenty? Mildly insulting considering he was eleventh in line to the throne of Hell. If he cared enough to clear some chaff he could be eighth even - but Sammy was seventh and he would not harm his brother.

  
"I would prefer this be a painless transaction. I will service you regularly as your kind is wont to need - if this could somehow be...civil."

  
Dean is taken aback by the request, and it is a request that comes almost politely from the stone-faced angel, standing dominantly before him. But civility - this Castiel was...  
He laughed, threw back his head and laughed uproariously. Oh this one was funny. He didn't mean to be of course but the fact he thought - even if this was 'done', that he would ever expect it to be easy...

  
He darts forward, faster than he seems despite being all muscled body, wings, claws and fanged grin. Castiel takes the hit of his weight like a champ and they go down in a tangle of thrashing wings, flailing arms and grunts. Surprise gets him enough of an advantage to swipe raking lines across the vessel's left pectoral, pleased with the red of shredded flesh and tissue even if it hardly bleeds. One arm is already trapped and it's his hesitation to go for the face, he likes the face the Seraph has, that costs him the mobility of his arms.

  
He's hauled up, insult to injury that the Seraph's vessel isn't even as tall as him, both arms clasped and shaken once for good measure.

"Behave." Dean glares, narrowed eyed. Then leans into the angel's space slow and licks up the side of his face as sloppily wet as he can. "You are..."

  
Thrown into the wall face first this time. Hard enough to stun and he's still blinking, dazed when his arms are yanked down behind him, held in one steel-viced grip. "Fucking asshoo- _ooh_. Oh!"

  
So what if fighting got him a little hot under the holy collar? He didn't expect prude angel to know. But he does. Angel's aren't the only ones with oil production glands and the free hand on stone-face is freaking squeezing his gland until he squeals - he'll deny it!, and the release is a relief, right up until his sopping hand is between Dean's cheeks, two firm fingers at his hole.

  
"Ouuhh-ha! Uhhh..." Dean shudders, eyes squeezed closed because that was - fuck that was good. Good burn, stretch, right fucking there, just like that. He whines a little when the angel strokes all the way in and his body clenches on his fingers. Well shit. He wheezes out when the angel pulls his fingers all the way out and opens his eyes to find himself pressed against the wall, dropping off his tiptoes and weak-kneed. "Guhh..."

  
"Fine." He blinks, opening his mouth to ask what is fine, when he's fucking impaled. The first stretch is just on the wrong side of the pleasure/pain fence, sparking discomfort like an itch and then glorious burn as he's thrust into, one long smooth action until the angel is pressed against his back and Dean is gasping, face against stone, wings spread, desperate for some kind of relief.

  
The white feathers of the angel's wings ruffle before settling, domed over Dean's. Thankfully he doesn't try to move and Dean can swallow the sob that almost escaped and try to breathe himself into relaxing. He's stretched so fucking full it would be amazing if he were even just a little wetter.

  
They're like that until Dean can shift his hips without wanting to cry like a little bitch. The sensation still gets a gasp out of him but he thinks he can take it if his angel moves now.

  
"Fucking bastard." There's a breathless awe in the slur because while he'd been warned, hyped up about knots, he hadn't been told about this barely manageable girth and he wonders if it's typical or just Castiel. "Come on." It comes out a breathy whine but he's good, thinks he can handle it now and twitches his hips again.

  
"What?" His voice still sounds remarkably even, inflection-less in the question and Dean looks over his shoulder, glaring heatedly, pupils blown.

  
"Fuck me. Come _ooonn_." He hates himself for the way his voice cracks on the last word just cause the damned angel shifted on his feet. He blinks, tilting his head like he doesn't understand. " _Move_."

  
His head thunks forward into the stone wall as Castiel withdraws, the sensation is _indescribably_ good and then Dean whines again because the fucker almost pulls out.

  
"Fuck, don't! Lucifer! Again." Dean babbles. This was torture. This one was a torturer!

He takes a staggering step back, pushing his ass back for his angel and somehow - somehow he gets it now. "Fucking... Hell!" Castiel steps back forward, moving his hips into Dean's advance and it's a glorious thrust that makes him see stars. "Yes!"

  
"Oh." He's staring at the side of Dean's face while he pants and writhes himself breathless, drunk on pleasure. And then he doesn't have to urge him anymore. There's almost a monotony to the rhythm of Castiel's thrusts but the predictability helps drive Dean mad, especially when he gets to the point of whimpering, desperate for just a bit faster, harder, something!

  
He's putty, desperate already, so he barely croaks a weak protest when suddenly the angel huffs into his neck, heating the skin around his Binding collar and a foreboding swelling start just past the rim of his anus. "Oh...my...GUHHH!" There's the tiniest of stutters in Castiel's movements, a soft hitched breath and then a shuffle of their bodies that pushes Dean, unforgiving, into the wall. "Huh!"

  
Castiel sighs, it sounds like he's just relaxed after a long day into a hot bath or slain a battlefield of demons. And Dean's bursting full and then fuller, a liquid warmth pulsing into him and it burns and aches and... Dean orgasms in a shivery mass, wings limp, body insensate. He's pretty sure he'd be on his knees if Castiel didn't have him pinned to the wall, immovable behind him.

  
"Oh." He says it softer than his last quiet realization, this more like a statement. "I see."

  
Dean releases some undignified noise as Castiel relinquishes his hands finally and then wraps him in his arms. He's still practically dead-weight and temporarily locked up with Castiel, but he can't help wriggling and when they take the short flap sideways through dimensions, because of the struggle they end up on the bed and Dean's almost rolled onto his own wing.

  
"Stop being, so difficult!" There's the slightest edge of annoyance in Castiel's voice like Dean has finally gotten under his skin. He gets him on his stomach so they can both spread their wings across the bed and then Castiel settles with a disgruntled huff.

  
It takes a while for Dean's higher functions to work again but as soon as he thinks he's able to speak without drooling or moaning, he quips out. 

  
"So first time huh?" The one wing he can see on the side his head is turned is suddenly ruffled, fluffed feathers and Dean smirks.

"Might I just suggest next time a bit more prep? You haven't lived until you've had a dripping wet hole."

He doesn't need to add it would make it more enjoyable for him too, figures the bastard can do his basic assumptions for that. He's not expecting the way Castiel tenses and then he's squeaking as a fresh wave of that liquid rush from the angel fills him. His whole body shudders in reaction and he hears another quiet huff from the angel that sounds almost pained. There's a squelch as he shifts and then the uncomfortable sensation of leakage, trickling escape that makes Dean gape into the bed.

"Fucking hell."

  
"Would you... _stop_ , please?" It's a revelation, the way he sounds strained, gravelly low pleading. Dean likes it.

  
"I'm not judging. Just practice makes perfect and I can give you some pointers." Dean writhes, stretches his body slow and then clenches down with his muscles. There's a grunt, a sudden struggle of arms and wings and then sudden, sharp white-out pain - but he's so wet it just, pops out. And he's free.

Also Castiel is apparently coming again because there's wet splashing on his ass and the back of his thighs.

  
"..." He twists into sitting up, come leaking out of him, just in time for Castiel to give him the most discombobulated expression before _literally_ disappearing. 

  
Well. He's just scared off his brand new husband.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What better way to control the chaotic Demons of Hell than to Bind them to the emotionless, uncorruptible Angels? The most dangerous are bound to Seraphim, the warriors below the Archangels, powerful enough to control their Charges. The tether can go both ways though - so Dean decides to make his Angel feel it.

The good thing about being Bound - okay, the other good thing apart from the sex - since you had your own personal angel to track you, the Heavenly Host on a whole tended to not mind you so closely.

So for the next few days Dean took advantage of his missing Bondmate to seal some deals on Earth and just cause some petty minor havoc.

  
He would have enjoyed his "hard"-won freedom even more he supposed, with Castiel there to torment just a little. But now it's eight days later and Dean's itching like a junkie for a fix and his hubby is still conspicuously absent. It's actually grounds for him to contact the damned angels himself and expose his inattentive minder... but he, _likes_ , him.

His weird little virgin angel.

  
He's in their shared space, thumping on the pillows of the rather nice over-sized bed, when suddenly Castiel is there, back stone-faced and squinty.

  
"Cas!" Dean drops the remains of the pillow he had been shredding and smiles, wide and welcoming at his angel. Who is looking around them where goose down feathers are floating in the air with a raised eyebrow.

  
"Dean...? Are the pillows...displeasing?" Hell, he's adorable.

He snorts a sound, waving feathers away from them both.

  
"They're fine. Don't mind that. Ah... You've been gone a while." He's not clingy in the slightest - he doesn't do connections beyond his brother, but he had expectations of this Bind. "I thought I might have scared you off."

  
The briefest shadow of discontent flits through Castiel's eyes. "There were...tasks, I had to do."

  
"Mission? Do tell." One of his wings snaps out reflexively against the tickle of a falling feather against the sensitive curve of the back joint of his wing. He wasn't feathered but that didn't mean the strong, almost scale like texture of his wings weren't sensitive. He settles it back, ignoring the way Castiel's eyes had trailed along the length of it and returning his squint with wide eyed curiosity.

  
"There is nothing to tell." He clears his throat once, almost dramatic. "I realized I was remiss in my duty to you so I returned to...see, if you had need of me."

  
A fucking romantic this one. Dean smirks and flops onto the feather covered bed in indolent repose. He ticks one eyebrow up and gives his best 'come-hither' look.

  
"Yeah I do." The troubled expression that lands before Castiel seems to steel himself shouldn't make him feel bad. "Look... I can prep myself first if you want to just get to the..." 

  
"I - the discomfort I caused you the last time we, joined, was not intended." Castiel says it, sharp and frowning. "I wasn't aware of the exact mechanics." Oh he got that. Had a feeling the angel didn't even have an idea of the 'mechanics' of his own body.

  
"It's cool. My pleasure to help. Literally." When Dean winks it gets him that wicked head tilt and a wrinkle of skin between those bright blue eyes. He laughs and settles himself half on his side, across the bed. 

  
It's a twisting reach for his own wing gland and while the spark of pleasure pain from Castiel's grope there had been enlightening, he couldn't make himself squeeze that hard. He massages, rolling his shoulder into it and sighs at the oily release that drips onto his fingers. Going like that gets him a lot more and he's almost relaxed, loose-muscled by the time his fingers are coated enough.

  
"...I hurt you." Castiel had been watching him, eagle-eyed the entire time and when he shows and wriggles his slick coated fingers, says that.

  
"I can take a little pain. It's spicy." He says it to mollify Cas because he doesn't think he can take an apology from an angel and it sounded like one was coming. "I really enjoyed your fingers. You should do more of that." When he bends his leg and reaches behind, Castiel steps forward, all attention. "See..." He goes for two just to show him and Dean grunts, bites his lip as he forces them in and then moans once he gets past his opening. He sighs when his fingers are in as far as he can go at this angle and opens his eyes to look up at Castiel. "I can take it."

  
He twists and stretches a little before beginning to thrust his fingers in and out. "You just...ha, fuck, needed to do... _ah_ , bit more of this." Fuck. His toes are fucking curling and there's no way Cas' eyes boring into him while he fingers himself open should be this hot. Enough of that. He turns his face into the bed and immediately has to blow away feathers. He goes cross eyed glaring at the one stuck to the side of his face and - Castiel's hand carefully plucks the feather off his skin before the angel settles himself next to him on the bed.

  
Dean gulps, before beginning to work his hips up against his fingers. It should be perfunctionary...but instead it feels like he's getting off. He adds another finger and can feel himself leaking onto his own pelvis and if he twists a bit more he can probably hump the bed, come with Cas watching him...

  
"Ahhh...fuck!" Good, good, good! Got his sweet spot by accident and he's rolling his hips into it now. Dean squeezes his eyes shut and fingerfucks himself a little harder, hoping to graze that spot again just right because he thinks he can fucking pop off from just that. He's not expecting the restraining hand on his shoulder that almost breaks his rhythm, shifts the trajectory of his fingers - just fucking right!- or the lots-less-painful-but-still-quite-intense squeeze of Castiel's fingers at the nub of his right wing gland.

Dean basically jabs his own trigger and goes off.

  
"FUCK!" Hips off the bed and he's coming so hard he sees fucking galaxies. His own cry sounds echo-y, distant to the feel of hot, wet strips of cum on his stomach and chest. "Shit!" It's a pitchy, distressed shriek because he's sensitive everywhere, feels like one big nerve ending with his fingers still stuck in the clamp of his ass muscles and Castiel fucking rubbing his oil gland. Dean whines when he lets go and it feels like his orgasm finally ends.

He sinks down slowly into the wet spot on the bed, trembling and gasping.

  
"...sorry?" The only part of him he's able to move is his head and he doesn't know what the expression on his face even is but he hopes it conveys that Castiel is stupid.

  
He blinks vacantly at the lap of the angel sitting right in front of him - how do you forget your husband's giant dick? Sacrilegious. Dean shakes out his deadened arm, pulls his fingers from himself with a satisfied sigh and grabs onto Cas' cock with both hands.

  
"Did you...are you not satisfied?" He has been gifted the most sexually ignorant angel in all of Heaven apparently. Dean knows they don't do feelings - the nuances of emotion beyond duty and justice but surely he must understand biology? 

  
"Are you satisfied? Man, you're here raised like a fucking flag pole." Dean kinda, sort of, really wants to sit on him. Except he feels like an overcooked noodle and even his hands are still shaking. _Lucifer_ he's thick. He squeezes firmly and then a little harder looking up at Cas but all he gets is an eyebrow. "Is this thing on?"

  
"I can feel you squeezing... if that's what you mean." Dean's the one who narrows his eyes now, suspicious. He gives an experimental stroke, tightening his grip.

  
"So for you this is more sensation than pleasure?" Cas tilts his head for a moment like he's considering before nodding slowly.

  
"The sensations, lead to pleasure I suppose? The knotting and marking you was - different. Good, different." He says the last quietly like a guilty confession and Dean smirks.   
"Can you knot without being in me?" He's curious, starts to jack Cas slightly faster, their eyes locked.

  
"I am not sure. I - never had before. That." Dean stalls out, gaping. Cas blinks at him. "This is a muscle Dean. I can control it to a point. It is not something I need, my purpose in this Binding is to offer it to you."

  
"Are you fucking serious?" Dean feels like his eyebrows are in his fucking hair he's in that much disbelief. There's obviously the big win here which is - apparently his husband can be ready for him to ride on command which - best news ever. But... "You guys don't get to have enjoyment? Pleasure?"

  
"Pleasure is - it leads to sin. It is not necessary. But it was nice, to feel it a little." Castiel tilts his head. "Maybe that is what made these arrangements possible. You demons have lots of pleasure with us. There is no loss to us and we gain your distraction I suppose. If you're lost in the throes of ecstasy, you're not razing cities to the ground."

  
Beyond the hysterical giggle internally at 'throes of ecstasty', Dean is struck dumb, completely disconcerted by the idea that to someone up top, Castiel is just a dildo for him. That Castiel seems fine with that.

  
"Okay. Cool." He forces a grin and starts to play with Cas again a lot more carefully. He uses the hand at his base to feel for where he thinks Cas knots while the other hand's thumb rubs and plays at his frenulum. "Tell me what it feels like inside me."

  
"Pressure. Heat." Castiel squints down at him curiously. "It is not much different from a very firm hand except the texture and complete compression. Slightly warmer."

  
Not the sterling commendation he'd expected... Dean flicks the head of Cas' cock spitefully and it twitches but Cas doesn't even let out a sound. "What about knotting me then? How did that feel?"

  
"The building of sensation, the repetition of it to the area your hand is currently around, in conjunction with the pressure and heat..." Cas pauses, seems to struggle with his explanation. "The feeling of knotting is bewildering but after is... nice. Very nice." Dean's shocked at the smallest upturn of the corners of the angel's lips and how his eyes go soft. "It's like home, out of this...thing. Maybe like sunning." He blinks down at Dean, absently brushing his fingers over Dean's collar. "Do you sun?"

  
"Uhh... don't think so." He goes frowny again and Dean casts out. "But it sounds nice? I could, try it?"

  
"Thank you." Castiel's voice is wicked dry as he says that. "You don't have to. I suppose it pales to...sex."

  
Probably definitely, Dean agrees silently. He's kind of angry on Cas' behalf, sad for him. "Well, it may not be the same but I guess you can feel, pleasure at making me satisfied?" He gives Cas a hesitant smile and gets a small one in return. "I like this a lot." Dean squeezes tight around the base of his cock and thumbs at Cas' head again. "You in me."

  
"Do you need it?" Eh, Dean's feeling steady enough for a hard fuck now. Guh, but for an angel with no concept of pleasure he's damned good at giving it to Dean by accident. Dean licks him from base to crown and suckles there for a moment and apart from a rather hard twitch in his mouth, he doesn't get a peep out of Cas. So he gags himself on his dick until his mouth is stretched wide and Cas' cock is wet before popping up for air.

  
"I _want_ it." And that's good enough. He climbs into Cas' lap while his angel waits, works him carefully in where he's still open just a little and moans, biting his lip as he rocks down onto him. Ever helpful, Cas flares his wings, settles his hands on Dean's hips and waits patiently through Dean's minor discomfort.

He could have slicked him wetter but he had wanted it like this.

  
"Okay angel. Let's make it good for you." Cas frowns like he's about to say something to correct Dean, so he shuts him up. He wraps his arms around his neck and kisses him, soft and teasing like he's done, seen done too, to so many humans, before biting on Cas' lip harshly. Cas just grunts when he makes him bleed but his lips spread and win. Dean's in and kissing him dirty, slow and filthy before he starts to rise.

  
Cas' exhale and wide blue eyes when they part, is worth it. The confusion when Dean sinks back down and kisses him again is a prize. Dean's selfish so he keeps taking... little bits of Castiel's innocence. The grunt and low hiss he gets for sinking teeth and then sucking a hickey into Castiel's neck is coupled with the warning of swelling fullness inside him. 

  
Dean pants, tilting his head away from Cas who is expecting him to rise off him again, expecting a kiss again, and rolls his hips instead. He watches from under his lashes, blood thrumming, excited. "You want it?" 

  
The fastest flash of betrayal. The hands on his hips flex, tighten. Relax again. 

  
"You're so good angel. Cas." Dean rocks hard, grinding himself down onto the cock inside him and then Castiel groans. Selfish, he takes that too and is kissing Cas, slow and deep when his knot catches and he floods him. Swallows his sigh and delights in how his wings shiver and fluff.

  
He's licking his lips when he pulls away from Cas' mouth. The angel looks dazed, fucked out, wild hair and wide blue eyes. Dean smirks at him and rolls his hips again.

  
"I want to finish Cas."

  
"Yes." Permission given Dean fucks himself on Cas. 

  
He can't get off of him but the angle Cas is pressed in at and Dean's size kink are more than enough. He comes after teasing his rim with pulling out and then slamming back onto Cas with a thrilled cry. His wings flare with his climax and Dean shrieks his ecstasy, blissed out. Finishes shuddering, bent into a defensive curl on top of the angel he just came all over.

  
" _Dean_." He tightens his arms around his angel's neck and smiles into his skin, kissing softly before Cas releases again, gasping out loud, hands scrabbling at Dean's wings. Being filled to overflowing might be a new kink with his angel, Dean ponders as the slightest shift makes them squish stickily. "...please." 

  
"I'm not trying to move. I promise." He really isn't. This is...

  
Fuck. It's nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments loved, kudos welcome!  
> <3


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What better way to control the chaotic Demons of Hell than to Bind them to the emotionless, incorruptible Angels? The most dangerous are bound to Seraphim, the warriors below the Archangels, powerful enough to control their Charges. The tether can go both ways though - so Dean decides to make his Angel feel it.

"Dean." He groans, put-upon and opens his eyes. All he sees is clear, baby blue skies and Cas.

  
"You're ruining it." 

  
"It is not safe to do this in the middle of the day. In the middle of a farmer's field." Though he's being scolded, Cas' tone is not as inflection-less as he's heard it before and that gets Dean's attention.

  
"It's not like even if a human found me they can see my wings Cas." He quirks an eyebrow at his husband and instead pats the ground next to him. "Come on."

  
"...Dean."

  
"We can sun... or you can fuck me." He stares Cas down blankly, blinks once pointedly. Because they haven't had sex in fifteen days now and Castiel has been very pointedly, not, asking him if he wants to. In fact in all that time he only saw Cas once.

  
Dean can get sex anywhere, anytime he wants... but he wants it from his damned angel and he's not going to fucking beg for it. Cas will ask and he will take and that is how this thing is going to happen.

  
Castiel sits down next to him. This isn't their dimension so they're both looking human right now. Dean's sprawled in jeans, boots and a plaid button-down and Cas is for some reason in a suit with a trench coat. When Cas joins him lying back in the dirt, it's a testament to how much they're avoiding sex. How much Cas is anyway.

  
The feeling of feathers over the delicate inner lining of his wing on Cas' side makes Dean shiver.

  
"You're stealing my sun." Dean pushes with his arm, Cas looks at him stoically and refuses to budge. "You're being a dick." 

  
"Did you lead that Wendigo away from those hunter traps Dean?" There went the mood. Two human hunters had died a couple days ago to a Wendigo that Dean had, maybe, sort of, kind of...helped. Castiel's superiors apparently had been paying attention to Dean in Castiel's absence. 

  
"Yes." Dean jutted his chin forward stubbornly, unaware how he almost shows off his Binding. "I didn't plan for anyone to die. I just did it for the shits and giggles. I'm more mischief than malevolence Cas. I mean, it's just two humans." 

  
What he really wants is for Cas to say 'fine, okay, just two humans' and continue to lie with him...

  
"They want to know why I haven't been with you." Yeah, why haven't you been with me Cas? Dean ponders his husband, petulantly. So what if the first time Cas hadn't known what he was doing? The second had been immeasurably better and that was going off a first that had been excellent to begin with in Dean's opinion... so why wasn't Castiel doing his duty? "How do I..."

  
"How do you what?" He's curious, turns his head to look at Cas' profile that seems shadowed, darkened now even in the bright sunlight.

  
"They, my superiors, Raphael... have decreed you be unbound, from me." Castiel whispers it, grave, flat-toned."Gabriel only has one Bound to him. He can handle another as an Archangel." Dean meanwhile is flabbergasted, disbelieving. So he had one tiny indiscretion and they're 'removing' him from Cas? "I failed my duty."

  
"Well they can shove their fucking Binding then! Who says I want to be given to someone else? The fuck?!" Dean sits up, aggravated. Presumptuous fuckers. He may not have picked Cas but he was very happy with him thank _them_ very fucking much. 

  
"I can't... I can't manage you Dean." Castiel spreads his arms, smiles suddenly and opens eyes the color of the sea. "You are responsible for the unplanned deaths of two humans who are apparently very important and my response to my superior was 'so what?'" 

  
Dean's amazement at Cas' toothy smile is overridden by his laughter as he imagines Raphael's face. "Did...did you really?"

  
"Yes." Cas says, final, a gravelly pronouncement. "How do I tell them, you've broken me."

  
"...broken you." He's honestly surprised as he wasn't trying to do shit to Cas. Well, that was kind of a lie. He'd wanted to see if he could break his willpower... "You didn't give in."

  
"Didn't I? _Dean_." He climbs on Cas and kisses him hard cause he says his name like it's a prayer, a curse, the best and worst thing. Just like he had the last time he had come inside him. Cas kisses him back. Like he's drowning, like he had when Dean was riding him. "I...I _want_ you." His hand hesitates before coming to Dean's neck, two fingers pushing between skin and his Heavenly collar, pulling him down.

  
"Yeah?" That's the fucking hottest thing. Cas spread on the ground underneath him, _his_.

  
"Yes Dean." That Cas _wants_ , wants him, is awesome. They kiss and strip in a harried flurry before Cas loses patience and everything just disappears. It's easy because of the puny body to forget how powerful the Seraph is.

  
Until Dean's under him, his body flipped effortlessly, Cas on top and his gaze searing, hungry. 

  
"Have you ever felt - I want to touch you with my Grace. I'm afraid I'll burn through you but I want, so badly to feel you from within, be inside you, become...part of you. Touch all of you."

  
Dean manifests his wings wordlessly, quivers while staring into Cas' blue, blue damned eyes and forces himself - it's not his denomination, he doesn't identify as it, forces himself to submit, spreading his wings wide, fragile inner lining skyward.

  
It's instantaneous, the crack of thunder that rolls over them and into the distance as Castiel's wings manifest, all six, high in their position of dominance. For the first time in his life, Dean feels his wings get slick wet from his weeping oil glands. He feels punched breathless when Cas leans down to him, eyes beginning to glow.

  
"I'm stronger than...you're probably aware of." He tilts his chin up proudly. "I can take it. I _want it_ Cas."

  
"I will, reforge, you Dean." Cas' arms under his thighs and he's bending him forward as he comes in close. "You will not be unchanged by this."

  
"Fucking fuck me already." Dean surges up for a kiss and he's burned, burned through, into - both ends. Cas' mouth is Grace and fire and his cock is Heaven and justice and Dean shrieks, wings splayed open as something better than an orgasm washes through him.

  
It's a struggle to hold consciousness and his physical body even but he does, barely by a thread. He comes to with his head arched in the dirt, getting fucking _ploughed_ and gasps back a Breath of Life, thrashing suddenly back into being.

  
"Dean." And Cas sounds happy, pleased, relieved as he sweeps him into a kiss with a hand clasped on his bare throat. Without stopping. Just hips thrusting and lips taking and Dean breaks a little in return.

  
" _God!_ " Something rolls through him and Castiel snarls, wings spreading high and wide.

  
"Do not!" Probably a bad thing to smite face him during sex because all it does is make Dean hotter. He bucks his hips up, hurtling from excited to frenzied instantly.

  
"Oh...oh fucking Christ." Grace floods him again and Cas knots and comes right behind it and then Dean does lose it - his hold, just for a moment, a frozen rictus of pleasure in orgasm and an epicenter of demonic energy blasting out away from him.

  
Another inhale and whimpery moan. Dean blinks languidly, smiles slow for Cas straddled on top of him.

  
"Damn angel." He swallows around how slurred he sounds and shifts his hips teasingly. Then he realizes Cas isn't even in him. "Wait, what... the Hell?"

  
"You've been unconscious for approximately forty minutes Dean." Cas looks apologetic, a bit nervous as he looks around. "I was afraid I had driven you out. We have to go."

  
He got fucked unconscious? Long enough for the angel to unlock? _Lucifer_. They had to do that again.

  
"I'd say marry me right now but we're already kind of married." Dean says in awe, probably the closest thing he'll ever feel to love beating in his chest. He means it - the collar is gone but Cas' Grace is a part of him forever.

  
" _Now_ Dean." He's hauled up, both of them dressed again in a blink and Cas gestures around them. "We just set off an unnatural event that is going to be felt for miles around by humans. I would not be surprised if 'corrections' angels were to come soon so let us not be here."

  
"Can't run forever." Dean says with a raised brow, surprised.

  
Castiel holds out a hand to him, brow furrowed above sky-bright blue eyes. "I'm more powerful than they know too. We can run."

  
Well shit, who is he to say no to that?

The fucking romantic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments loved, kudos welcome!  
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> Comments loved, kudos welcome.  
> <3


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